[motsco_]

suddenly as he fixed the miserable rags round himself a
feeling of pity for his ruined body overcame him. Before he knew what he
was doing he had collapsed on to a small stool that stood beside the bed
and burst into tears. He was aware of his ugliness, his gracelessness, a
bundle of bones in filthy underclothes sitting weeping in the harsh white
light: but he could not stop himself. O'Brien laid a hand on his shoulder,
almost kindly.
'It will not last for ever,' he said. 'You can escape from it whenever
you choose. Everything depends on yourself.'
'You did it!' sobbed Winston. 'You reduced me to this state.'
'No, Winston, you reduced yourself to it. This is what you accepted
when you set yourself up against the Party. It was all contained in that
first act. Nothing has happened that you did not foresee.'
He paused, and then went on:
'We have beaten you, Winston. We have broken you up. You have seen
what your body is like. Your mind is in the same state. I do not think
there can be much pride left in you. You have been kicked and flogged and
insulted, you have screamed with pain, you have rolled on the floor in your
own blood and vomit. You have whimpered for mercy, you have betrayed
everybody and everything. Can you think of a single degradation that has
n